Mike Kane: As has been alluded to, Sir David was a man of deep Catholic faith. The Gospel of John, chapter 10, verse 10, reminds us that the Lord came not just to give life but to give it in abundance, and David lived his life in abundance—a joyous service both to his constituents and here in this House. We would see him late at night, often in a tuxedo, going from charitable concern to charitable concern, championing the causes he believed in. He looked good in a tuxedo—no Daniel Craig, but this was no time to die either.
My wife reminded me of the time when we went to the beatification in Rome of John Henry Newman, just before lockdown—a beautiful service presided over by Pope Francis. We were whisked to the Oratorian College on one of the mountains of Rome overlooking Vatican City, where Prince Charles addressed us brilliantly. Then the royal cavalcade rushed out. Unfortunately, the parliamentarians on the trip were left stranded. The former Member for Ealing North, Stephen Pound, a former naval commander, decided to lead the vanguard in a military operation to get us back down to our hotel. Like troglodytes we entered a cave and ended up in a vast Franciscan monastery. Our party become separated; it was now more like an Ealing comedy under Stephen’s leadership. My wife reminded me that I abandoned her and her safety—a lifelong Labour activist, my wife—to three Tory MPs getting stuck in a lift, including Basildon Man, as she said, because he was still etched on our 1992 election memory. The other two MPs, by the way, were for North Dorset and Fylde, so I will catch Mark and Simon up about what went on in that lift, because my wife said, “What an utterly, utterly wonderful man.”
He participated fully in the liturgy of the Church. He participated fully in the sacraments of the Church. While I have the attention of those on the Front Benches, Catholics believe that extreme unction helps guide the soul to God after death, so maybe we could come up with an Amess amendment so that no matter where it is, in a care home or at a crime scene, Members, or anybody, can receive that sacrament.
He believed fundamentally in the social teaching of the Church: dignity, solidarity, subsidiarity to the nth degree when it came to Southend, a preferential option for the poor, and care for the environment. That meant that he came with unique views on things such as life, death, Europe and animal protection, sometimes in chime with his party, sometimes in chime with the country, but sometimes not. He channelled the 14th-century mystic Julian of Norwich, who said, “All things shall be well and all manner of things shall be well.” That is difficult for us all here today. His cheeky catchphrase was, “Don’t worry; it will be fine”—not quite Bruce Forsyth, but he was a friend of Bruce Forsyth and his family.
He did not die a martyr, but he died, as has been said, doing the things he loved and helping constituents. He would have known that the theologian Karl Rahner said that power is a gift from God. That portcullis on the top of our letterheads gives us all that power, whether on the Front Bench, in opposition or on the Back Benches. Let us recommit to Sir David today that we will use that power for the common good.
He died on the feast of St Teresa of Ávila. She said this, famously:
“May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be. May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith. May you use those gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you.”
David used those gifts, and he passed on that love.
Sir David, may the choirs of angels come to greet you. May they lead you to paradise. May the Lord enfold you in his mercy. May he grant you eternal life. Eternal rest give to him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May his soul and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.

Andrew Rosindell: It was a true privilege to have known David Amess. He was simply one of the best people I have ever known in my entire life. He was a true friend. He had time for each and every one of us. He looked down on no one. He was everyone’s equal. He was kind, he was generous, and he was sincere. He was a man of principle and courage. He was uncompromising in what he believed to be right. He was not one of those who change their views in order to progress. He knew what he believed in, and he stood firm for those things. He was a man of enormous integrity, but he was a true friend to so many of us.
I knew David for around 40 years. We became friends instantly, because we shared the same political views. We came from the same background. I am from Essex—some say east London, but I say Essex—and he knew that our instincts, coming from that neck of the woods, were the same. We hit it off from day 1. We were committed to this country. We love our country. He was a passionate believer in Britain and a true patriot. He was a royalist. He was never afraid to fly the flag and to champion great British values. He was a Christian and was proud to be a Christian and uphold the Christian heritage of this country.
He also loved animals, as I do. He loved my dogs almost as much as I love his dogs. On many occasions, I would visit his home in Southend, often taking my own elderly mother. He had an elderly mother who lived to 104. When his mum died, he spoke to my mother as if she were his mother. He treated me like family. My heart goes out to Julia and the five children, who are wonderful people. He had a fantastic family. He was so dedicated to his constituencies: Basildon and Southend West. He lived for them, and he did sacrifice everything else to put his constituency first.
I will say this: the one legacy that we must hold true to David is not to let his horrific murder and the horrific way that he left us change our democracy. I remember the day after the appalling Grand Hotel bombing in Brighton in 1984. I remember Margaret Thatcher—he was a dedicated supporter of Margaret Thatcher—saying, “It is business as usual, we must carry on.” I take the same view. Whatever happens and whatever we do to carry on and protect ourselves, we must not let our democracy be undermined by that kind of evil. We must stand up to evil, defend our democracy, cherish the freedom that gives all of us the right to be here and represent our constituents, and defend and cherish the freedoms and liberties that have held our country together for generations. David was a fine example of a parliamentarian, a magnificent constituency MP, a true friend, a gentleman and a truly wonderful human being. We are going to miss him, but I feel truly privileged to have known him. Thank you, David. God bless you.

Jeffrey M. Donaldson: I rise on behalf of my right hon. and hon. Friends to record the common and unified voice of the people of Northern Ireland, who share in the grief and sorrow at the loss of our esteemed and much-loved colleague and friend. My condolences and sympathy to the Prime Minister and his colleagues on the Conservative Benches. Words cannot adequately describe nor suitably express our heartfelt sympathy, but I pray that the words spoken here today and across our nation in recent days sustain and give strength to David’s family. No one will feel the loss of David more than his family. To his wife Julia, his beloved children and the wider family circle, I offer my heartfelt condolences and deepest sympathy on behalf of the Democratic Unionist party, and I trust and pray that almighty God, the greatest of all comforters, will draw near to all of them.
David epitomised the true meaning of public service. He was the model parliamentarian. He sought office not for self but to serve others, influenced by his deep Christian faith to champion the needs of the most vulnerable, to give a voice to the voiceless and to stand up for the interests of the people of Southend West. David’s greatest joy came not in holding office but in how he could use that office to improve the everyday lives of those he was honoured to represent. The people of his constituency and from the city of Southend have lost their greatest champion, and I, like Members on all sides of the House, have lost a dear friend.
The plaques at the entrance door to the Chamber and around the Chamber in memory of the late Airey Neave, Robert Bradford, Anthony Berry, Ian Gow and Jo Cox are a daily reminder to all of us of the threat that our democracy faces in modern times. In Northern Ireland, all parties in the Chamber have experienced these threats and the loss of dear colleagues at the hands of the enemies of democracy. Today, this House sends a clear message—a resounding message—that democracy in the United Kingdom will never be suppressed. Our voices will never fall silent. We will never allow evil to triumph over good.
David taught us all the true meaning of public service. He showed us the true value of public office and provided us all with a true example of faith in public life. His legacy lives on in all the causes and communities that he championed, the lives that he improved and those whom he inspired.
Mr Speaker, it now falls on us all to take forward the beacon of hope along the path that David led us and to ensure that the flame of his legacy is never extinguished. The House is the poorer for his loss, and this country—all of it—mourns the tragic passing of one of its most faithful servants. Our response collectively is simple. When one of us falls, another will step forward. Together, we will continue to defend the values and ideals that David stood for and that are the foundation stones of this great nation.

Jackie Doyle-Price: I think the whole House will be left in no doubt of the genuine affection in which Sir David’s constituents held him just by watching the TV footage this weekend. As a friend of his, I am hugely comforted by the genuine affection that  has been shown today, in response, by hon. Members. For me, David was a great friend as well as great parliamentarian.
Last week, Sir David led a delegation of the Qatar all-party group on a visit to Qatar, and he led it with his characteristic good humour, dare I say great fun, and inclusivity. During the visit, we had the benefit of an audience with His Highness the Emir. As the meeting came to a close David, with a great flourish, referred to the need to present a gift, and with his characteristic self-deprecation, he said, “What could I give the man who has everything? Here is an inscribed copy of my book!” That was David.
I suggest that those hon. Members who have not yet read Sir David’s book go out and get a copy, because the proceeds go to some of the charities that he championed. Could I also say that, in actual fact, if they read the book it is the authentic voice of David, with his pen portraits, some of which are humorous and some of which are quite barbed? It is actually a great insight into Parliament from somebody who, as we have heard today, spent all of his career on the Back Benches, but he loved this place. He genuinely thought it was a privilege to be a Member of Parliament. He loved his work on the Panel of Chairs, he was proud of the legislation he had secured, there were the end-of-term Adjournment debates—they will never ever be the same again, will they?—and he may yet have become the Father of the House.
I believe there is a serious point here. In the 38 years Sir David served as a Member of Parliament, one of the things he lamented was the decline in the respect for this institution and for the Members within it. The reason he lamented it was that he felt our constituents were the poorer for it, because as that respect declined we just became inconveniences to be managed by public authorities, rather than the genuine voice of challenge. I think that if we do anything to remember him, that is something he would wish us to work collectively to address, as that is what makes this place worthwhile.
In reflecting on Sir David’s memory, we must not remember the way in which his life was taken, but remember how he lived. His beaming face in 1992, when his victory marked a fourth election victory for the Conservatives, is of course iconic. However, I should say to the House that his biggest pride was not actually that result, but the one in 1983, when he won Basildon for the first time—a victory as much against the odds as the one in 1992. I would say that he held Basildon as a marginal seat for all that time because he was an amazing campaigner. He had time for everyone, as we have heard, and his megaphone was never too far away. I have to say that we enjoyed some visits by David and his megaphone in Thurrock over the years, and it was always great fun.
As an east ender, Sir David instinctively represented the politics of south Essex. He would describe himself as a working-class Conservative, and he very much epitomised the kind of person who embraced the politics of Margaret Thatcher. He would recount with great pride the occasion when, after everyone had written off his election prospects in 1992, it was Margaret Thatcher who came on the eve of the poll to support him, and he credited part of his victory to that.
Our thoughts are obviously now with Sir David’s family. Just as a final note, the last time I went to David’s house he was proudly showing me his wedding  video. The reason he was doing so was not just to show me my hon. Friend the Member for Derbyshire Dales (Miss Dines) and her dancing back in those days in 1983—he was hugely proud that she got here too—but that the exact wedding he had to Julia in 1983 at Westminster cathedral and then a reception here was what he repeated for his daughter only a few weeks ago. I hope the whole family receives some comfort from the fact that we all loved him.

Rupa Huq: I rise to speak about the brutal killing of our friend, David Amess. I know that we have an adversarial workplace here—we have a face-off—but some of our best friends are often on the other side. I know that when I have been in a hole, it is people on the Conservative Benches who have helped me out and been friendly to me.
This killing was all the more shocking and painful to me because I was certainly the last Labour MP who saw him alive. It was on that delegation to the middle east last week—at the baggage reclaim as it happens. Everyone else had scarpered; everyone else’s stuff had gone. I had missed mine because I had been tying up my shoelaces or something. David said, “No, I will wait with you.” I said, “Come on, you’ve got to go to Essex. Be off with you.” That was the measure of the man and how kind  he was. The next day, the last stragglers were saying, “We got back. It was a great trip, thank you.” His was the last WhatsApp message I saw, thanking everyone for their service. How shocking it is that he was taken in service—a public servant slain in the line of duty at his surgery.
Again, on the trip, his million-dollar smile, which we have heard so much about, won over everyone. To one of the signatories that I had to introduce him to, I said, “He has been a parliamentarian since the last century, but he never ages.” To another one, David said in his inimitable way, “Oh, you know what? I thought I had a lot of kids, because I have five, but you have 24!” On the coach, in advance of the meeting, he said to us, “Ladies, when we get there, I don’t want any ruffling of his hair, any sitting on his lap, any twiddling of his tie, because he already has three wives, and he doesn’t need any more.”
Everyone has so many Amess-isms. I was with him for a week and miss him dearly. I was shocked. I could not process the news. I had to go and do my own in-person surgery. When I got on the Panel of Chairs, he said, “You? You should be a shadow Minister by now”—no comment! He did not want party preferment and nor do I in that case. When our dear friend Jo Cox—it was so brilliant to hear from my hon. Friend the Member for Batley and Spen (Kim Leadbeater), who is a dear friend already in a short space of time—was taken from us, we all said that we should live by the diktat of “more in common”. I feel that, in life, we should all be a bit more like David. That means being less cross and more cross-party.